by Tomson Cobb
‘This had better go no further than this pub, Jago, otherwise I’m for the chop. The rumour is that the DG got a call from Lord Catesby, who asked him to get our department to back off.’
‘Curious. Now why would an NED of a small influential geopolitical consultancy have that sort of influence over an organisation like the good old BBC?’
‘Apart from the fact they went to Eton together, that’s your job to work out, not mine. I have Lucy and a family to feed. Hey, sorry mate, forget that last comment. I was out of order. I was sorry to hear about Frankie. She was a gem. The four of us had some good times together, we both loved her.’
‘So did I, Steve. So did I. Thanks for the thought. Don’t worry, I didn’t take it the wrong way. Look, you’ve been very helpful. I do appreciate it. If I can return the compliment any time, just ask.’
‘Oh I will, Jago. I will. Be assured you owe me now. Remember though, however you use this, don’t mention us. Please.’
‘I won’t.’
Chapter 31
‘Are you sure you don’t want another piece of cake, Mr Hale?’
‘No thank you, Mary. I’ve had two already. It’s delicious. I have to look after my waistline you know.’
‘Oh, it’s very light. I’m sure it wouldn’t affect a fit young man like yourself if you took one more piece.’
‘Mary, can you give us some time alone? We have work to discuss,’ Nigel said to his wife with a hint of impatience. She gave him a look that suggested she’d have more to say to her husband later, when Jago had left.
‘Sorry about that Mis… Jago. I still can’t help calling you Mister. I’m hardwired to be formal, I suppose.’
‘No worries, Nigel. I always enjoy Mary’s cake. Now what have you got for me?’ The two were seated in the accountant’s ‘man cave’, as he liked to call it. He had a large folder opened on the desk in front of them.
‘Quite a bit on Real World Consulting. It’s very well connected. They have clients across the world. Big corporations, governments of all political colours. High net worth individuals, sovereign wealth funds, family offices. You name a category and they cover it within their customer base.’
‘What about Catesby?’
‘He’s a curious character that one. The Stalham estate went close to bankruptcy when he was younger. He took over the operation from his old man but he couldn’t stop the losses. Went to the House of Lords when his father died of course, took up a couple of consultancies, one was RWC. All disclosed to parliament. Then the estate business took a sudden turn for the better. Got some finance from a big bank.’
‘Don’t tell me. I’ll bet it was Strang Bank.’
‘Yes. How the heck did you know that, Jago?’
‘Just a guess, Nigel. Go on. I interrupted you in full flow.’
‘Well, they invested several millions into the estate, brought in an experienced management company, built a hotel in the grounds then started marketing the facilities. It’s done well since then with the result that it’s now one of the top stately homes in the UK by turnover. Has a fair operating profit as well.’
‘Catesby doesn’t do a tap there, I guess?’
‘No. He did some time in the Army Territorials. Ended up as a major. He’s full-time in parliament now. Worked his way up the greasy pole as a hereditary lord after he took his father’s seat, so he’s competent at least. Sat on various committees, got to be a junior minister in the upper house then an adviser to Number Ten on international affairs. He’s even been mentioned as a possible ambassador to Washington.’
‘So he gets his £300 a day to turn up there, plus the £200,000 a year pocket money from RWC. That makes about £250,000 a year doesn’t it, Nige?’
‘Plus travel expenses and subsidised meals, if you take all the benefits the lords are given. Most of them do.’
‘So, a nice little earner for our Jeremy then?’
‘Not bad, I agree. That’s all disclosed above board, although he also has at least one bank account in the BVI. It holds around $3.5 million at present. That took some time to find. I had to follow links from some of the other names you gave me that led me to that.’ Nigel sat back with a contented look.
‘Ah. Okay so far. So where does the moolah come from?’
‘I haven’t been able to find out yet. However, I know it comes via Strang Bank.’
‘Bingo. Well done Nigel. What else do I need to know?’
‘One fact to note is that Catesby’s third wife is Russian. She was a property developer in Moscow, then met him at an international conference. Now she lives here in London. In fact she’s set up her own consultancy which advises Russian and Chinese companies, amongst others.’
‘Nigel. Have I told you I love you? In a professional way, of course. Once again you’ve been awesome.’
‘Thank you, Jago. It’s always nice to be appreciated. I’m still working on links between Troncore and Kruger Europe, so far without much luck. I’ve also got to check some references to Chomsky’s operation with regard to more offshore accounts. I’m sure they are linked in deals across different accounts in those tax havens, though I can’t prove it yet. I’ve come across one or two that mention Hordiyenko. As he took over after the death of his boss, Mr Chomsky, that’s maybe not so much of a surprise though.’
‘Indeed. Keep at it Nigel. I need as many links as you can find between all four. Now I have to leave. I just hope I can get away without Mary forcing more of her delicious cake on me. I want to go to the gym tonight but I already feel bloated.’
A few minutes later, the walk home through a warm Regent’s Park provided the opportunity to think, plus walk off at least some of the calories he’d just put on.
Jago knew from his own research that Strang Bank had a chequered reputation. It had received an FCA fine of £500 million for mirror trades after it bought Russian roubles then sold them in dollars. They’d also paid $1 billion to resolve a US government lawsuit for hidden tax liabilities to the IRS. Nowadays banks had multiple levels of compliance officers with instructions to make sure that every account had passed its KYC – or Know Your Customer – rules, so why nobody senior at the bank had been given long prison sentences Jago could only guess. Perhaps, like all the banks involved in the Great Recession of 2008, the top executives knew where all the bodies were buried, so to speak.
Whether it was the news from Nigel, the weather, or the sounds and smells of summer across the park, he didn’t know; but whatever the inspiration, Jago decided that a bit of old-fashioned door-stepping was needed, but with a difference.
Chapter 32
The temperature was still cold at that time of day, just as dawn started to make its presence felt along the Embankment, the Thames immobile as the tide began to turn in its daily meander through the centre of London.
Jago fell into step behind the runner in front of him. As he matched his stride cadence, he accelerated enough to jog alongside him.
‘Beautiful morning,’ Jago shouted above the noise of the already busy road traffic.
‘It sure is.’ The runner looked to his right with a forced smile, then returned his attention to the pavement ahead of him.
‘Forgive me. Aren’t you Peter Herman? I think we met at a banker’s conference two years ago in Bern?’ Jago said as he coasted alongside his new mark.
‘Did we?’ Herman glanced at Jago again, this time with a look of suspicion. He was panting now as he tried to get his words out. Jago could see he wasn’t as fit as the PR crap on the company website suggested.
‘Yes. I think so. You told me that you loved to run marathons. I suppose you’re in training for one now then.’
Herman stopped abruptly, hands on hips as he took some deep breaths. It looked like Jago had given him just the excuse he needed to take a break.
‘That was when I was in much better shape. I have to say, I can’t remember you, sir. What’s your name?’
‘Jerry Hall. My runner friends call me Diva when I enter competitio
ns. I used to be in events production but I’m a fitness trainer now. I was one of the organisers of that conference.’ Partly true in two of the areas at least, Jago decided.
‘Oh. I see. So now you’re on the lookout for new clients, I suppose. I like your chutzpah. As it happens, it could be your lucky day. I am in the market for a new trainer. My previous one is about to move to Australia, he tells me. Wants to have kids there. Why don’t we go have coffee? I’m bushed anyway so I need some caffeine fast.’
An hour later, Jago resumed his run along the river with a business card and some very useful information on the international banker known as The Animal.
Chapter 33
‘Well, Mr Hale, what can I do for you?’
‘It’s good of you to see me at such short notice, Lord Catesby. I’m doing a piece for one of the Sundays on the world of political consultancies, think tanks and the lobby industry. I’d hoped you could fill some gaps in my limited knowledge of the sector.’
Jago glanced around the room. The house on South Audley Street was your usual tidy but nondescript Mayfair residence, the address of choice for bibulous hedge funders and embassies, so an ideal location for Real World Analysis. He was sure that within a few minutes’ walk Catesby would be able to visit most of his clients without the need for limos or cabs, with lots of expensive restaurants to entertain them as well so as not to waste any moment of his valuable time.
‘You mean a critical article on the bad boys of politics?’ Catesby said. ‘I read all your work, Mr Hale, not always with full appreciation I have to say. Nonetheless, as anticipation is often better than actual realisation, I thought it best to try to help make sure you only include the truth, as far as RWC is concerned anyway.’
Catesby was well spoken with clear enunciation, the result of an expensive public school education Jago knew, as he’d done his homework on the man. He was dressed in an immaculate made-to-measure blue pinstripe, crisp white shirt with a high collar topped by a navy blue tie and matching handkerchief that protruded in a casual way from the breast pocket. The formal uniform of the local area, thought Jago, but rapidly becoming a rarity in a new world of work, now exemplified by the chilled-out, dress-down Friday types in tech and new media who preferred beards and jeans as their own form of conformity. Apart from banking and the City, the only other two growth areas in the services sector where London now led the world. Or Europe, anyway. Or maybe just the rest of England.
‘That’s appreciated, Lord Catesby.’ Jago couldn’t help but enjoy the sound of the mellifluous voice.
‘Please call me Jeremy, Mr Hale. It’s a little uncomfortable for me if you keep addressing me by my title. If that’s acceptable to you of course. As regards our conversation, the usual rules apply. If I say off the record, you switch off your machine. Can we agree on that?’
‘Deal. Can we start with your clients? I see you work for many companies based overseas.’
‘We do. Notwithstanding the information on our website, I’m sure you know that already. We could save each other a lot of time if you told me why you’ve come here?’ The rictus smile betrayed impatience, together with perhaps an early suggestion of annoyance.
‘You’re right of course, Jeremy. Can you tell me about your work for the Chomsky Group?’
‘I’m afraid you’ve been badly briefed, Mr Hale. RWC never worked for Mr Chomsky or any of his companies. I did meet the gentleman, of course. Whatever else he was involved in, he was a generous patron of the arts here in London so we came across each other at a couple of functions he’d organised. I can also say I didn’t know him well, nor did he ever ask us to work for his group, nor did he buy any of our special reports as far as I know.’
‘I see. It seems I’ve been misinformed. How about Kruger Europe then?’ Jago said.
While Catesby’s eyes suggested concern, the brain behind them didn’t. His reply came immediately.
‘Yes, we have worked for Mr Kruger’s organisation. They are one of our select clients who are entitled to all our material, because when Justin set up the company he offered an exclusive introductory package for those first customers. Multinationals in the main, that would pay a premium price for our more detailed information. That was before I joined the company, of course.’
The aristocrat was a smooth operator. Jago could see how he could manipulate such potential customers and open doors for his younger colleague.
‘Of course. How about Troncore? Are they a select client as well?’
Catesby offered that thin smile once more.
‘Indeed. Pablo Macblane was one of our earliest supporters after I arrived at the company. I’ve known him for a long time. We’ve been friends for many years, so he was enthusiastic to sign up when I introduced him to Justin.’
‘What do you do for him now, may I ask? Professionally, of course,’ Jago asked.
Catesby ignored the deliberate barb.
‘In-depth analysis of investment opportunities for his clients around the world. Some for his own as well. Once again, I presume you know all this already, Mr Hale. I’m sure it would have been better if you’d met our CEO for this sort of information.’
‘I might just do that anyway, Lord Catesby. Maybe after our little get-together. All the same, it’s always best to talk with the organ grinder rather than the monkey. Don’t you agree?’
‘If you’re trying to provoke me, Mr Hale, it won’t work. I don’t run this company, Justin Worsley does. I just advise when or where I can.’
‘Come come, Lord Catesby. You’re far too modest. Without your investment and introductions this company wouldn’t exist.’
‘I have no investment in RWC. I am just a facilitator in an advisory position.’
‘Of course. I didn’t mean yours. I was alluding to your introduction of Strang Bank to finance the company.’ Jago watched Catesby as he dropped the grenade. He was disappointed with the lack of an explosion as the man opposite him didn’t turn a hair.
‘I see you’ve done your homework well, Mr Hale. I did indeed introduce Strang Bank to Justin. The chief executive there is also an old friend of mine. In fact, they helped secure the estate of my father. That’s how I got to know him. You know all this, Mr Hale, so why are you here?’
‘I’ve lost friends and a wife, Lord Catesby, for reasons that I don’t completely comprehend. They had indirect links with some of these organisations, so I suppose have a personal stake in the job to find out why. Simple as that.’
‘I see. I did some of my own research before you arrived. I read about your wife’s death, her father and your friends in Japan as well. You’ve had a terrible time of late. I sympathise of course, although I don’t know what RWC has to do with all that.’
‘Neither do I at the moment, Lord Catesby, but I can assure you, I will soon.’
‘He knows,’ Catesby said into the speakerphone on his desk a few minutes later. He’d made the call immediately after Jago had left the house.
‘Everything?’ the voice at the other end of the line replied.
‘I don’t know. It sounds like most of it. Hale looks to me like a very determined person, so we can’t continue to expect him to give up. I have to make a decision.’
‘I agree. Can you leave it with me? I’ll make some calls before I come back to you. The information I get may help you decide how to play it.’
Chapter 34
‘You must be crazy, Jags. Lord Catesby the traitor? The scion of Eltham? Christ, he’s a national security advisor. He has the ear of the cabinet. He’s so close to the PM that he’s godfather to his eldest. He might even make him the Leader of the Lords.’
As Jago and Nik walked through Hyde Park the dog ambled along beside them, with a level of enthusiasm that almost approached the time before her injury. Jago had given his contact from GCHQ a potted version of the story so far, except without a few key facts, not least any detail of his work with Shapiro.
‘I know it sounds off-the-wall, Nik, but we have to be prep
ared for more surprises in this operation. There’s an arrogant air about him, added to which all the signs are that this guy has some bad connections with even worse characters. He also may have access to the communications facilities that are closed to most people. He ticks all the boxes.’
‘I can’t believe it. Then again, who am I to argue? You’re the expert in how to ferret out information, Jags. Okay, I’ll make the report to my boss. He’ll appreciate your information. By the way, he’s reporting directly to C on this case. Just for your information.’
‘Is that right? So the head of MI6 is involved in all this as well? Thanks for that, Nik. Now what about the information you promised me?’
‘There’s no other peer in the Lords that we can identify with the right influence or connections to be the mole.’
‘There you go. We have to consider Jeremy Catesby as our number one suspect then. How about Yamada’s problem?’
‘The company involved, we now think, is connected to Chetwynd as you guessed. I’ve gone through the archived stuff we have here. There are lots of phone calls logged between Chomsky and the chairman of the company there in Tokyo that go back years. Emails as well. Most of it is what sounds like straightforward business talk. Enough to make out that both of their organisations were linked. It looks like they now want to acquire the shares in Mr Yamada’s company by clever legal means, however it’s not certain they can do that so easily. Japanese law is a bit different to here.’
‘I hope you’re right, Nik. Look, can you switch your attention to Catesby now? Young Master Worsley as well. I want to know where RWC comes into this picture.’
Chapter 35
Jago paced the first-floor study, with the dog near comatose by the door, but still with one eye open as she watched the nervous activity in front of her. He rolled the red hairclip around his fingers as a magician does with a coin while he waited for the transatlantic call to be connected. The message on the screen asked him to wait until the other conversation was finished.